


Stopping by Des Moines on a Rainy Evening

by CherBearDaCareBear



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-01
Updated: 2005-02-01
Packaged: 2019-05-15 20:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherBearDaCareBear/pseuds/CherBearDaCareBear
Summary: Josh and Donna share an evening discussing all the things they'd left unsaid. Story is based onspoilers and speculation for episodes airing through January 2005.





	Stopping by Des Moines on a Rainy Evening

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

> 

**Stopping by Des Moines on a Rainy Evening**

**by:** Georgia Bean

**Character(s):** Josh, Donna  
**Pairing(s):** J/D  
**Category(s):** Romance  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Summary:** Josh and Donna share an evening discussing all the things they’d left unsaid. Story is based on spoilers and speculation for episodes airing through January 2005.  
**Author's Note:** Feedback greatly appreciated. Many thanks to Evelyn for the beta work. She rocks the known universe. Seriously, ask NASA. 

Hamburg Inn

Des Moines, Iowa

4:37 pm

Nestled into a small window seat in the corner of the hotel lobby, Donna enjoyed the sound of the rain falling on the window. She particularly enjoyed the fact she was no longer trapped in one of the many drab hotel conference rooms. The next 23 minutes were hers to relax. Technically. In all honesty, she had brought an hour’s worth of work down with her 37 minutes ago. Best case scenario would be she’d finish up with five minutes to spare. She’d relax in those five minutes.

She settled deeper into the worn velvet-covered cushion, enjoying the smell of fresh coffee and the muted sounds of travelers coming and going in the main lobby area. Apparently the Hamburg Inn was the place to be in Des Moines, most of the other candidates and their people were lodging there. Will insisted they arrived first. Russell’s media opportunities had, to date, been less than inspiring, so she assumed Will was working whatever angle he had. 

She sighed deeply. She didn’t let herself think about this too often, but it was technically her break, so she couldn’t see herself as too treasonous. It was tough some days to get truly inspired by a candidate when your previous employer blew the competition away with a look and a word. It was tough. It was reality. The Bartlet Administration had to end, was ending, actually. It was also reality that she had to pay her bills. Sometimes inspiration wasn’t enough.

The thunking and clunking sounds of someone struggling with their luggage drew her from her reverie. Looking up from her mountain of work, she saw him. It had been raining most of the day and droplets of water ran down his coat in rivulets, puddling on the red carpet of the hotel’s foyer. His umbrella sent water flying as he shook it out. He looked tired. He stifled a yawn and rolled his head on his shoulders, loosening up his tense muscles. Taking a deep breath he refocused, scouted out the reception area and made his way toward the smiling young man behind the counter.

“Good afternoon sir. Welcome to the Hamburg Inn. Once you’ve checked in, I can have a porter take your luggage to your room for you, Mr…”

“Lyman. I’ve got a room with the Santos campaign.”

“Yes sir, I just need to see your credentials and a photo ID.” The young man smiled cordially but his tone offered no exception to his request.

Josh sighed dramatically and with a pointed look began to rifle through his backpack until he found and proffered the requested documentation. Oh Joshua, she thought, not everyone knows who you are, especially outside of DC’s political merry-go-round.

“Excellent. Thank you for your patience Mr. Lyman. We are certainly proud to host so many of the candidates here at the Hamburg and we’d be remiss not to be particularly cautious.” 

The porter, whose name Donna remembered as Mitchell, arrived and carted Josh’s luggage away to his room. She watched quietly as Josh removed his overcoat, shook it gently and threw it over his arm. After shoving his paperwork and room keys in the front of his backpack he flipped open his cell phone and began discussions with someone she didn’t know.

By the look of him she surmised he’d probably worked a string of three or four nights in a row with three hours sleep, or less, per night. She knew how to read the signs. She looked at his shirt. If he was wearing the same one as the day before she knew he’d been working late at least two nights in a row. If he had that glossy look in his eye before the day actually ended was another sign, especially if it wasn’t even dinnertime yet, that he’d been pushing himself three nights in a row. If he’d missed a spot shaving, she’d know for sure, it was a dead giveaway: four nights. It took awhile for him to grow out enough of a face to miss any in an attempt to shave it off. 

So here he was, across the room from her, and she could still tell he’d been working too hard. She wasn’t too concerned however. She couldn’t miss the passion and determination in his eyes. His spirit was fed by opportunities like this. He might be tired but he was nowhere near tired out. She could just tell. It was in his body language, how he stood kinetically casual and confident all at once. Most of his tells existed in his body language and she hoped she’d never lose that ability to read him.

For awhile after she left her job she struggled with lingering traces of guilt. She’d never wavered on her decision. Leaving was absolutely the thing she needed for her professional and personal growth. She knew she needed, for her own spirit and esteem, to get out and see what she could do on her own. Yet, she wasn’t so self-centered to believe her actions would not affect Josh personally. She wanted him to be okay without her, as much for his sake as her own. That’s why, looking at him now, she wasn’t worried. He was laboring for a person, a cause that truly inspired and fed his spirit. If Josh was going back to the White House, presumably as CoS, he wasn’t going to do it for Bob Russell. Josh could never work for someone he didn’t respect or find inspiring, it just wasn’t in his nature. So with every bit of ground the Santos campaign gained, she saw that glimmer shine brighter. 

Watching him now, his hand on his hip, standing in the middle of the hotel lobby oblivious to people moving around and past him, he was beautiful. He was working the strings of his master plan and she felt proud of him. This was his element, his vocation. She didn’t know what the history books would say about Joshua Lyman but they’d never really get it right.

Sighing softly she tried to turn her attention back to her own work. Deep down she knew she could study him all day, he really was a compelling person. For eight years she’d been studying him, and the world in which they existed, and sticking so close to his orbit is what got her in trouble anyhow. Shaking her head a bit to focus, she tried getting back on task. She checked her watch. She had 30 minutes of break time left and at least 40 minutes of work to do.  

“Donnatella Moss, as I live and breathe!” A poor rendition of a southern accent lilted across the space between them.

She grinned into her papers and without looking up cooed, “My stars! Is that Joshua Lyman? Honestly darling, seems as though you’ve been spending a tad bit too much time down south.” Her attempt at a southern accent was just as horrible as his had been.

He flopped down in an overstuffed chair across from her spot in the window, letting his backpack hit the ornate carpet with a resounding thump. He flashed her the smile, with dimples. He threw the dimples around well and he knew it. Yet, with his legs stretched out in front of her, she noticed his smile was too bright and shiny. It certainly wasn’t the intimate, soft smile he’d given her in Germany. Looking beyond the smile, she studied the look in his eyes. It took her less than a second to see the nervousness there. They hadn’t seen each other, in person anyway, for awhile. 

She wasn’t sure what to say to him. Her first urge was to bring the banter, to resort to humor as a means of diffusing a potentially awkward situation. Her second urge was to tell him he looked a mess and go find him some cleaner, less wrinkled, clothes. Her third urge was to, well, something she’d never done outside of her dreams. She wasn’t about to do that in the middle of a hotel lobby.

Eight years ago she hadn’t been at a loss for words around him. Hell, a whole lot of words, spoken at a high rate of speed while walking purposefully, got her a job. She wasn’t coming to him for a job anymore. She wasn’t coming to him to be saved. She was learning to see the world from the view her own two feet afforded her. However Josh fit into her life now was new territory and that would take some time.

*

Hamburg Hotel

Des Moines, Iowa

4:30 pm

He snapped his cell phone shut. Good. Excellent, actually. He finished finalizing details for increasing the advertising budget for the Upper Midwest, specifically for Minnesota and its 10 electoral votes. Josh was glad to have the spending increase as a chance to tap the deep progressive roots in the state, regardless of the sprawling suburbs and all their Republican ways. This was the home of Hubert Humphrey and Paul Wellstone. Of course it was also the home of Jesse Ventura, but Josh figured the state was due for a political renaissance of sorts. 

Josh felt the dull thud of exhaustion creeping up around the edges of his mind; they’d been pushing hard from the get go. They had to. Why should anyone take a Congressman from Texas seriously when the sitting Vice President seemingly had the nomination locked. Sighing deeply he took a second to survey his surroundings. That’s when he saw her.

At first glance, she looked the same. Her hair wasn’t much different. Her clothes were the same. She wasn’t wearing go-go boots and a mini skirt or anything. He’d notice that. She was, curled up in an old window seat, contained in her own little world. Of course she was absorbed in her work, trying to get the biggest gomer this side of the Mississippi elected. Come to think of it, in this part of the world getting to either side of the Mississippi wasn’t a tall order. 

“Donnatella Moss, as I live and breathe!” He lobbed her an easy target, knowing it would get her to engage him in conversation. He caught the grin she was trying to bury in her files. A matching grin spread across his face when she responded to his silly entrée into the conversation in kind. 

He flopped himself down in the chair across from her, glad to finally see her with his own eyes. He felt nervous about seeing her in person. They’d had a few talks on the phone. Those earlier calls, the ones after she’d left him, were much more awkward for him than the more recent ones had been. Each time they spoke he felt a little better about everything, including the hard fact that she wasn’t going to be coming back to him. 

They had communicated primarily by phone and email. In time, their banter had returned. In time, their conversations turned less and less from “Donna, are you sure you won’t come back?” and “Josh, get over yourself. I have to do this,” to “Donna, how’s the Vice Gomer? Is Will close to throwing him off the nearest bridge? How are you? Do you miss me?” and “Hi Josh, the Vice President is in excellent form and sure, I miss you, but nowhere near enough to get trapped in the vortex that is your life.”

So to be sitting so near to her, he was at a loss. He just wanted to look at her, just for a little while. Not seeing her everyday, all day, made him grateful for the times when he did. Looking at her, she seemed to be feeling the same way. This was new territory for the both of them and it was kind of fun to figure it all out anew.

“Hungry?”

“Pardon me?” She twirled the pen in her hand.

“I, uh, we just got in and I haven’t eaten and I was wondering if you were hungry. We could get something.”

“Well, I only have a few minutes left here and I have a ton of work left to do.” She gestured to the piles and files on her lap.

“You gotta eat sometime right?” 

She paused for a second, looked at her watch, then in a rush said, “It’s still a little early, but yeah, let’s get something. I can,” her voice dropped when she looked again at all she had left to do. “I can drag all this upstairs and meet you back here. I’m not sure what’s around, haven’t checked out much of Des Moines yet, but you know, we could go out, I suppose.” He sensed her frustration. He could tell she hadn’t planned on hanging out with him all night. He quickly devised a new plan.

“Why don’t we just eat here?”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I’ll call somewhere and they’ll deliver us some sort of sustenance.”

Her face brightened at the idea.

“You paying?”

“If you buy the beer, I’ll buy the food,” he smiled as he flipped his phone open again.

*

Hamburg Inn

Hotel Lobby

7:56 p.m.

He’d pulled a smallish coffee table near their spot in their corner of the lobby. It was now littered with empty coffee cups and beer bottles. The remnants of takeout sandwiches lay amid the cups and Donna felt full, content. She knew her free hour elapsed hours ago. Neither her pager nor her phone had beckoned, so she hoped for the best. She and Josh hadn’t seen each other in too long, comparatively speaking, and she had to admit she was having more than a bit of fun relaxing in his company, tucked in a dark corner of a grand old hotel in middle America. Any nervous energy she’d had when he’d arrived dissipated hours earlier.

Somehow over the last hour they’d wandered into teasing/discussing the people they’ve dated over the years. He’d been teasing her about her string of gomers, those he remembered by name and those he’d never met. She assumed that was his way of letting her know he’d been paying attention, maybe too much attention, to her love life. 

Of course she wasn’t going to let Josh get away with his lengthy diatribe so easily. It only took a few well-placed words to get him embarrassed about Amy. Donna wasn’t afraid of talking about Amy. If that woman were to waltz into the room at that exact moment, Donna knew Josh wouldn’t look twice at her. Now she had him on the defensive, albeit playfully, about why he would possibly want to go more than one round with Amy Gardner.

“Donna, you know I am a man of eclectic tastes.” He put up his hands in a playfully defensive gesture. “Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Never in the years they’d known each other had they engaged in this kind of conversation. Before Josh came to her Germany, a conversation like this would have felt invasive and put on her on a defensive high alert. Not anymore and she was more than glad of that fact.

“And you are talking to me about gomers and wrong turns on the Road of Love? Admit it Josh, at least I had the sense to avoid the same trap twice.” She grinned at him, leaving him floundering for another snappy comeback.

Speaking of wrong turns on the road of love, she could have said much, probably too much, about Amy Gardner. Donna supported Josh in the early days of his relationship with Amy but it didn’t take long for Donna to know Amy and Josh would never last, no matter how many times they threw themselves back into each other’s lives. Amy didn’t get Josh and Josh would never truly trust her. It really was that simple. 

“Josh, come on, she threw water balloons at you and you liked it. Admit it, you were turned on by water balloons.”  She grinned, knowing she certainly had the upper hand in mocking when it came to Josh and his ill-fated and ill-advised romances with Amy Gardner.

“What?”  He acted as if he had no idea what Donna was talking about.

“Don’t you find that, sort of, I don’t know, freakish?”

“Yeah, well, I threw snowballs at your window and you liked that.” He grinned right back, knowing full well Donna did, in fact, love having him show up at her door that snowy night.

She attempted to glare at him across the top of her drink as she took a sip. He was right. She did like it. She let a slip of a smile flash at him.

The tone of his voice had that warm sexy edge to it, the one she had been trying to desperately to ignore. 

“Tell me, Josh, confess. What’s with you and water, apparently in multiple forms, around women?” 

“I remember you that night. You were hot.” 

“As I recall, you enjoyed running your fingers over my knee as I perched precariously on your lap.”

Donna felt herself slide into her memory of that cab ride all those years ago… All of them smashed into the back of a single cab made for an interesting ride. She distinctly remembered the warmth passing from Josh’s body to hers as she nestled on his lap. Her legs were stretched out across the rest of the men lined up in the backseat but Josh held the bulk of her weight and he kept his arm draped behind her, across the window’s edge, so she wouldn’t get a chill from the cold door.

The mood was jovial as the cab rolled down the slushy streets of DC. Laughter and jokes swirled with Toby’s cigar smoke and the cold wind from his open window. This merry band of pranksters had left the glitz, glamour, and politicking to gather up their little Cinderella. She remembered how good it was to feel like one of the gang again. The feeling of being accepted, valued, and needed by people with whom she worked.

Her heart swelled when she chanced a look at Josh. The cab wasn’t a place for words of any weight or significance, she understood Danny was there and what that meant. More importantly, she knew there were things she wanted to say to Josh before they got into the melee of all the parties. He had to understand what it meant that he’d come out to get her, to forgive her, to make everything okay. He had to understand all that she felt before he left the cab. She just couldn’t tell him, she had to show him without giving anything away to Danny. 

Closing her eyes she knew she had to risk it. She leaned in and let her forehead rest lightly in the soft curls just above his ear. She let out a contented sigh. For a few moments she held still but she felt she hadn’t done enough. She raised her head and let her lips graze ever so lightly from his forehead and back into his hair as she moved her head. Settling in, she let her cheekbone rest against his temple. She could feel him relax and smile up at her. He pulled her closer with the arm he had resting on the window and sighed himself. 

Amid the raucous laughter surrounding them, the two of them kept quiet and still. He kept his left arm tucked around her tightly. She steadied herself by placing her left palm squarely on his chest. From time to time she’d run her fingertip in a circle over a part of his scar. He let his fingers of his right hand trace random patterns on her knee, even though his coat covered it. Any time they hit a pothole or bump of any sort, she let the jostling of the cab act as her cover for more overt signs of her feelings. When the opportunity presented itself, she would let a kiss linger, hoping he understood what she was trying to say. 

To anyone outside their little world, it just looked like she was trying to keep her head from hitting the upholstered roof of the cab, not nuzzling and kissing her boss in front of their colleagues and the White House reporter for the Washington Post. The sparkle and grandeur of the parties lay ahead of them. She looked forward to dancing with Josh, Sam, Toby, even Charlie, if he was sober enough to do so. She looked forward to laughing and drinking with CJ. She looked forward to all the night had in store. But at that moment, there was spell cast over the two of them and she was loathe for their ride to end. 

Real life existed outside the cab. If there was ever to be a the kind of relationship between the two of them, as Donna had hoped, she knew it wouldn’t be while they worked together. She would date other men and he would date other women. If it hadn’t been for her rock solid belief that they were destined to be together she wasn’t convinced she would have let him leave the cab. She relished their few moments together. She knew their delicious interlude would dissipate into the cold winter air as soon as they left the cab. She felt it and he did too. Maybe that’s why he let his face turn slightly into hers, letting her lips sweep across his cheek again and again.

“Donna? Hey, Donna!” Josh tapped his finger on the edge of her drink she still held near her lips. She was back in the Hamburg and Josh was across from her. 

“What? Oh, I was just thinking about something.”

“What?”

“The second Inauguration.”

“All those fabulous parties? Me in a tux? Toby actually liking Will?”

“No.” She put her drink down and looked him in the eye with the confidence of a woman who was coming fully into her own. It was time she left her coy flirtations of a Midwestern upbringing behind. 

“I was remembering our cab ride from my apartment.”

His eyes warmed even more when they met hers. He remembered it just as she had. 

“I remember feeling like Cinderella rescued by those crazy mice.”

“That was a good night. You smelled really good.”

Wow, he was bringing the woo, wasn’t he? 

“It was. You came and rescued me, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely. That WAS me, Prince Josh, Savior of CinderDonnatella’s in Distress.”

“That –was- you?” She’d caught his emphasis on the past tense status of his Knight in Shining Armor standing.

“Donna, you know that you don’t need a knight in shining armor anymore don’t you?” He looked right at her, his eyes soft and his voice even softer. He was doing his best to show her how proud he was she went out on her own and did what she needed to do, even if it was bittersweet to him personally.

Silence descended on them for awhile as she thought about his words.

“You know Josh, maybe there’s more to the story than being rescued all the time. Maybe it wasn’t really about rescue at all. Maybe Cinderella needed to save herself, to find herself, to get over her fears and assumptions about what she could and could not do. Maybe Cinderella really needed to do that so she could go to Prince Charming on even terms. Maybe Cinderella needed to…” her voice sort of dwindled to a whisper and then got silent. When she spoke again her voice was strong and animated.

“Josh, can you believe we’ve been sitting here for hours like this? Not so long ago I couldn’t get you to sit down for a serious conversation about my future. Forcing me, by the way, to leave you the way I did. Now here we are, engaging in the kind of conversation neither of us was ever any good at having. It’s odd, don’t you think? Eight years, we’ve had our way of doing things for so long, that to, you know, sit down like this, it’s kind of…” she waved her hand around in the air between them. 

“The Times They Are A Changin’” Josh smiled, he sounded proud of himself. He laughed a little at the oddness and newness of the last few hours and raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Do you think Santos can do it?” Donna looked deep into Josh’s eyes.

She was looking at him with such intensity, he knew every gesture and word would be mulled in her brain for days. He’d wanted her with him, at least professionally, and he’d had a nice long monologue concocted in his head in case she ever seriously asked this question. Running those words through his head, they now seemed a trite and shallow plea for her to come back to him. They had been words about how if she’d only join up with them he’d be sure to get Santos elected because she’d find a way to keep Josh’s affairs in better order. It was another speech about how she could be useful to him, not useful in and of herself, to Matt Santos.  

“Absolutely.” 

*

Hamburg Inn

Hotel Lobby

9 pm

“The Rules were as much for my sanity as they were for your safety, bud, so don’t go knocking the Rules!” She waved the top of her bottle around in the air and pointed it at him.

“You’re delusional Donna.” He shook his head. “The Rules, as you so creatively named them, were just your way of controlling every possible moment of my life, a revenge of sorts.”

“Josh, you were on painkillers, which made you easier to deal with for awhile, but it also made you the biggest goofball on the planet.” She shook her head in kind remembering those early days after he’d been home from the hospital.

“Are you now adding prescription painkillers to the list of things my ‘sensitive system’ cannot handle?”

“Well, as I recall you professed your love for many things while you were under their influence. I had to do everything in my power to keep you from the phone and computer, fearing you’d start professing your love to everyone on the Hill. Don’t you remember?” She was swirling the lime slice around in the bottom of her empty bottle.

“Physics, Donna, there’s a lot to love about physics!”

She wondered if he really had no memory of this. Should she say anything? The smug smile on his face could use a little washing with the truth.

“Josh. This may come as a surprise to you, but you professed your undying love to a number of things, people, concepts and holidays while you were doped up.”

“I did not,” he clipped his voice a bit but she could see the confusion in his eyes. She smiled to see him wondering if, anything she’d said was true.

“Like what? To what or whom did I profess my undying love?”

“McDonald’s french fries, Jean Luc Picard, swimming in the ocean as a kid, the 4th of July, the President, Charlie, Zoey, CJ, Sam, Ginger, Bonnie, Leo, Margaret, Toby, Mrs. Bartlet, the ‘bastards who sewed my lungs and heart back together with dental floss’, and more than once you raised a glass to ‘whoever had the genius to invent slippers with non-slip soles’.” Donna ticked off each item on her fingers as she tried her best not to laugh out loud.

“Which ones did you make up?”

“None of them, Josh. You were full of love for many, many things.” 

“Is there more?”

“Oh yeah, once I let you watch television, your list of loves grew exponentially.”

“Okay, now I know you are lying. I remember, you wouldn’t let me watch tv.”

“No, I wouldn’t let you watch the news channels or C-SPAN, not even the Book Channel. It didn’t take long for me to banish the Discovery Channel, the Biography Channel and all of the National Geographic channels either.”

“So what did you let me watch?”

“You got Cartoon Network, E! Entertainment Television, SciFi Channel, and Comedy Central, but not the Daily Show.”

“So I could have the Sci-Fi Channel but not National Geographic?” His eyes narrowed attempting to figure out her logic.

“Ok, Sci-Fi was for me, I watched X-Files reruns.”

“Donna, didn’t you think that diet of junk food television would be horrible for my mental state?”

“No, it kept you sedated and relaxed. Except when Dexter’s Laboratory was on. No, for that shiny half hour a day we had to sit silently, without moving from our spots on your couch until the commercial breaks. So, I’m thinking you did okay.”

“You know, Donna, you kinda remind me of Dexter’s sister, DeeDee. You are tall, blonde, skinny and annoying.” 

Donna figured he was getting defensive with her because he might have some snippets of memories related to Dexter, Adult Swim, and South Park meandering through the soup of memory of his recovery. 

“Oh Josh, we had fun! Don’t feel bad. You were not in any shape to do much more than that anyway. Look at it this way, for one shining, unremembered moment, you were in touch with the ways of pop culture in America.”

“Was I ever in touch?”

“I’m guessing not, but there’s always hope. Here.” She passed him a Coke. He opened it and took a healthy sized drink.

“So I amused you mercilessly with my love? Is that what you are saying?”

“It was fine. I remembered those less-than-lucid moments with fondness once you were coherent and rambling incessantly about particle physics all the time. There were times when I missed those slobbering, sleepy days watching South Park and feeding you ice cream. Not that I wanted a useless Josh on my hands forever, but you can actually be rather sweet when you are not running at a thousand miles an hour.”

“Donna, don’t tell me I professed my undying love to you. Did I?” His voice was teasing but she could see more than a little of him wanted to know.

“Josh, don’t you remember?” She feigned heartbreak. She thought of teasing him about it but she changed her mind when she looked in his eyes. “You were very sweet. If it hadn’t been for the drugs, I might have believed you.” Her voice was soft and no trace of teasing remained.

“So I did, tell you…you know?”

“Lots of times. Twenty three times actually.”

“I did?” He was thrown by her nonchalance in answering him.

“Really. Wow. I’m sorry?”

“You’re sorry? Why?”

“I should be?”

“What?” 

“Sorry?”

“Josh, are you asking or offering? Your apologies, I mean, are you asking me if you should be sorry or are you telling me you really are sorry?”

He took a long draw from his drink and just sort of stopped. He was thinking of something, another memory perhaps. His eyes sort of scrunched in on themselves as he focused on whatever what zipping around in his brain.

“Josh? Hey Josh? Are you with me here?” She sort of leaned in toward him as he’d propped his elbows on his knees and had his chin resting in his hands. 

He shook himself back into the present conversation and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind.” His voice was sort of quiet and soft. She couldn’t tell if he really wanted to drop the conversation or not.

“Pardon?”

“Never mind, it’s okay Donna, I know why you are telling this story.”

“Cause it was funny?” her voice was doing that ‘I can’t imagine how any woman can put up with him, ever. She was starting to wonder how she ever did put up with him for eight years. 

“Yeah, it was a good story, but you know. I think I know why you’re telling me.”

“Cause you didn’t know and I thought it would be funny?”

“That’s part of it.”

“Ok, Obi-Wan,” she took a deep breath and let it all out in a diatribe of her own. “Please, tell me why I told you a story about you never knowing you professed your undying love to me at least twenty three times in the three days you were on serious painkillers.”

“Cause then we’d be even.”

“I can’t believe I’m asking you this for like the tenth time since we met today, but, pardon?”

“We’re even.” He was doing this smirking thing which told her he thought he knew something she didn’t and that it was worth this verbal game of freeze tag.

“Excuse me?” She was going to make him blurt it all out, that’s what he wanted anyway.

“We’re even now. I told you, apparently twenty three times, thank you for counting by the way. You told me because you did it too.”

“Did what?”

Why could she only manage one or two word sentences all of a sudden?

“You told me.” He said it like it was as simple as knowing Sunday came before Monday.

“I told you what?”

“You loved me.”

“What? No I didn’t. I haven’t, what? I’d remember something like that Josh. Nice try though,” she smiled as she raised her beer to him in mock salute for attempting to set her up. 

“Yes, you did.”

“When did I tell you that Josh? Tell me, please, because I can’t recall ever, in my life, telling you I loved you.” She could feel the defensive snark rising in her voice. She didn’t like hearing it there.

“Well, one could make the case that the simple fact that you managed my entire recovery was evidence of your love, but no. I won’t say that because I don’t have to. You told me you loved me.”

“When?” She was scrambling through her mind. 

He looked at her like he wasn’t sure she was pulling his leg. He looked at her like she should know the answer straightaway.

“You told me, and I did count, twice.”

“When and where did I do all this professing of my love to you Josh? Cause I really cannot recall ever…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened when she heard his voice whisper across to her.

“Ich liebe Dich.”

“That’s German, Josh,” she stated rather obviously.

“Yes, yes it is.”

“You just said, ‘I love you’ in German.”

“Yes.”

“But you said I said it.” Her confusion was evident and the smile on his face told her he was having a good time watching her try and work through it all.

“You did.”

“I did? I never took German in high school. I took French, you know that. I even took it in college, oh wait…” 

He didn’t have to say anything, the smile and patient nod of his head said it all. 

“So you are saying I professed my love for you in a foreign language, one I do not speak by the way, all while recovering from a broken leg, collapsed lung, and a pulmonary embolism?”

“You sure did.” Still with the grinning.

“Come on Josh, I didn’t tell you I loved you twice in German.” She shook her head disbelievingly.

“Well, that much is true,” he nodded his head in agreement. 

“So I told you I loved you twice in Germany but not twice in German?”

“Correct.”

“Listen carefully Lyman, becaue I’m only admitting this once. I have no idea what you are talking about, please explain it to me.” She flopped back and eyed him with a look of defeated intrigue on her face.

He reached out and ran a finger across her knee. He began speaking slowly, as if he was watching his memory play like a film in his mind.

“The first time you told me in English. You’d just been moved to your room after the embolism surgery and you were groggy. The nurses let me sit with you. I held your hand and promised you, God, even some of the Democratic party, all manner of things if you woke up okay. I sat with you, talking to you, for a really long time. After awhile you woke up and shushed me. You told me to ‘Stop making covenants with God, Josh, he’ll actually want you to stick to them.’ Then you blinked your eyes a little bit, saw I was holding your hand, and then you told me you loved me.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You wouldn’t. You were drugged from here to Thursday.”

“The second time?”

“The second time was when your mom was down in the cafeteria with Colin. Remember when you woke up and asked for me?”

She nodded her head. That was familiar.

“Well, remember how I sat with you for a long time? You told me you felt awful and that everything, including crying, hurt. You were pretty uncomfortable, so the nurses came in and gave you a little something for the pain. Before you drifted off you told me you loved me. Again.”

“In German?”

“Yes.”

“How? I don’t know German. Was I channeling a long lost German ghost or something because I know for a fact I do not ‘Sprechen Sie Deutsch.’”

“Well, here’s where it gets interesting,” he started.

“Oh here it does? It’s been rather interesting for awhile Josh,” she interrupted.

“After you fell asleep your mom came back to the room. I asked her if you spoke German. She said you didn’t. She also told me the nurses taught her how to say ‘I love you’ in German so when you woke up she could tell you, to make you smile.” 

“So she said it to me, a moment I don’t remember, and then I said it to you, also a moment I don’t remember?”

“Apparently so.”

“Wow. I, uh,” her voice faltered, unsure how to proceed.

“You are not going to say you’re sorry are you?” He teased her.

“At least I said it in more than one language. You, Mr. Lyman, just told me over and over and over in English. Not very creative.” She graced him with a superior smile and flicked a beer cap at his head.

*

Hamburg Hotel

Hotel Lobby 

11:35 pm

“Donna, are you going to be in trouble?”

“For what?” she mumbled over a spoon of ice cream.

“For taking an hour break and stretching it into like a six hour break?”

“I have my phone and my pager Josh. If the campaign falls apart because of me, well, that’s just a sign. I’m fine.” She stretched her legs and took another spoonful of ice cream.

“So you’d rather sit here with me walking down memory lane than get Bingo Bob elected?” 

“I didn’t say that. Plus, if I’ve been here more than six hours that means you have too. Maybe Will just sent me down here to get my hands on you to keep you from working. Santos has been gaining and Will’s not loving that. Especially when you understand he wants to be you so badly that, I think, it wouldn’t surprise me at all, that is to say, if he knew I was down here with you at 6pm and didn’t try to get me away from you because he knows that I could either get ideas from you about what to do, or in the very least, distract you from working to give him a six hour head start.” Donna nodded after taking a deep breath. She’d just sent a mouthful his way. 

“Will wants to be me?”

“He wants your experience and instincts.”

“So, assuming he’s figured out you are still down here with me, you’re saying that he doesn’t stop us from hanging out for hours on end as a means to get a six hour head start in Des Moines?”

“If he needed me he’d call, page, or come find me.”

“Wow. Does he know where your room is?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Why?” Josh’s voice was getting a little possessive and jealous. She could hear it.

“Because I work with him, and since room assignments are not classified information to campaign members, he knows where my room is located.” 

“Do you remember when you sent me to Joey Lucas’s room?”

“In California?”

“Yeah, I told you some bullshit line about gathering rosebuds.”

“Yeah, that was not so good.”

“You told me Al Kiefer answered the door, so I guess not.”

“Who’d answer your door if I showed up at it?” 

His question threw her a little bit.

“What?”

“If I showed up at your door, who would answer it?”

“Today?”

“What?!” His voice sort of screeched.

“Oh knock it off Josh, I’m teasing you,” she grinned. 

“’kay, just asking.”

“Will you be showing up at my door Josh?”

“Why did you send me to her room?”

“Joey’s?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. Why did you go?”

“I don’t know. She was hot.”

“Well, there you go.”

“But you were already in my room.”

“Yeah, yeah I was.”

“So I ditched you in my room to go to Joey Lucas’s room?”

“Apparently.”

“Well that was silly.”

“I agree.”

“I can be pretty silly sometimes.”

“That’s never been a question.”

“You were still in my room when I got back.”

“Yes.”

“You were good at that.”

“At what?”

“Being there when I got back.”

“From where?”

“From wherever. Whenever. You were always there when I walked in.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she sighed and ran her finger through the last of the ice cream, hoping for the last tastes of something sweet.

“Yeah,” he sighed in return.

“Always there. Always prepared. Should have been a Boy Scout.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He looked her right in the eye.

“Sorry that I was prepared for work?” She felt confused. It had been over six hours of eating, drinking, and ice cream. Throw in the fact that they’d spent nearly all that time talking in a way they never had, covering topics that, at one time, had been off limits.

“No. I’m sorry I took you for granted.” It was that simple. She was relieved that he’d come to understand that she’d outgrown the job, their old relationship.

“Well, I chose to stay until I chose to leave.”

“Still, I’m sorry.” 

She stretched out and put her feet in his lap.

“Excellent. Thank you. I’ll take a 4 hour foot massage as a first step in your repayment plan.”

“Repayment plan?”

“Yes. I figure I could claim at least a thousand hours of overtime, so get moving.” She kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes at him.

“Didn’t you get paid for your overtime?” He asked as he took one of her feet in his hands.

“Yes, but this is different.”

“How?”

“Tragic flaw on your part does not excuse you from having to make repayment.”

“So I have to rub your feet because I took you for granted?”

“Obviously. Oh, that feels nice.”

“I’m glad. So let me get this straight, this foot rub will erase eight years of outwardly taking you for granted?”

“Oh no. This foot rub is just a drop in the bucket. You are going to give me a backrub in New Hampshire.” 

“At the debates for the New Hampshire primary?”

“Well, I didn’t see you in South Carolina. Therefore, New Hampshire is your next chance. I probably won’t see you again until then.”

“Unless you show up in my room, you know, by accident.”

“I don’t want to wander into any backrubs accidentally Josh.”

“Can you wait that long? For a backrub, I mean?”

“I’m going to have to, no one else owes me like you do.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He smiled and tickled the bottom of her foot.

“Hey! A foot rub is serious business. I’m a working girl now. The feeding and care of Donna Moss is important. She cannot be doted on by anyone who does not see her innate beauty and value.”

“You weren’t a working girl before, She-Who-Now-Refers-To-Herself-in-the-Third-Person?”

“Did you give me any foot rubs before?”

“Good point.”

Time passed in near silence. The hotel lobby was quiet and the lights were dimmed. Their corner was nearly encased in comfortable darkness, the only source of light were two small wall sconces on either side of Donna’s window. Around them the floor was littered the remnants of an evening spent in the exact same spot.

“Do you think this is weird?” She asked him through a yawn.

“What? Me giving you a foot rub or me giving you a foot rub in the middle of a hotel in Des Moines, Iowa?”

“It’s not you and your magic fingers.” She grinned at him. “It’s this place, Iowa. Here I am, back nearly where I started and it all feels weird.”

“Are you talking about Wisconsin?”

“I guess. Eight years ago I drove a thousand miles looking for a new start.”

“Thank God you did!”

She looked at him skeptically.

“Seriously Donna, I am glad. Plus, I’ve got like nine hundred and ninety nine more hours to repay, so I thought I’d just throw that in for good measure.”

“Smart man. Seriously, Josh, you know, I left the Midwest hoping for a new start, which I got and now I’m getting another new start. Ironically, I had to return to the Midwest to find it. ‘And miles to go before I sleep’ isn’t that how it always goes?”

“How do you mean?” He stopped his ministrations to her feet and looked up.

“Those woods on that snowy evening,” her voice was soft, “He’d like to take in their solace and natural beauty, but he can’t. He can’t do what his heart desires because he’s got miles and miles ahead of him. He’s got obligations to the wider world, no matter how much he’d like to wander off into those dreamy woods, leaving his job and people’s expectations behind. It’s just not his time.” She met his questioning gaze with her own melancholy eyes. “She can’t have it both ways Josh. Not yet, anyway.” She sighed and looked out into the rainy night of Des Moines, Iowa.

“She? I thought it was a ‘he’?”

“I’m talking about me Josh. I’ve traveled miles and miles for my new starts and I can’t stop for the solace and comfort of something beautiful right in front of me. At least not yet,” She studied her fingernails as she murmured her dilemma.

“I’m confused. You drove miles and miles to build a life in DC. You took your new job for Bingo Bob and you’ve traveled miles and miles for him on this campaign. Now you are in Iowa. What woods are you loathe to leave?” 

He sat quietly, caressing her feet through her fuzzy socks. 

A grin crept across his face when he heard her reply.

“Josh, you know I’m not talking politics don’t you?”

*

Hamburg Hotel

1:30 am

“Stupid door key. Why can’t I just have a key key? Plastic credit cards are not door keys. These suck. Ok, try again,” he muttered to himself.

“Damn.” The insidious light on the door refused to turn from red to green. He jiggled the handle and tried for a fourth or fifth time. The beer he’d consumed had worn off hours earlier, long after he’d switched to soda. His current door problem could not be linked to that. Of course his mind was full of Donna and memories, that could be part of the door problem.

It had been an amazing, unexpected, evening. It really was a challenge for him to admit to himself that a year ago he would have taken spending time with her for granted. He felt victimized after she left when in all honesty he’d been a very self-absorbed and selfish person. It took her leaving him like she did for him to learn lesson. He smiled, knowing that tonight he’d learned a new lesson: there was something special between them and no one else. He felt it as truth that there would be no one else, for either of them ever again. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he tried the door again. This time he yanked on the handle, just to show it he was serious. The damn light stayed red.

Why was his door opening from the inside?

“Donna?”

“Josh?” She opened the door and met him with a yawn. The room behind her was in total darkness. Her voice was kind of crackly with sleep and her hair was sort of matted down on one side of her head. His brows furrowed when he saw she was wearing a cutoff “Bartlet for America” t-shirt and baggy flannel pajama bottoms with American flags all over them. Her toenails were painted fire engine red. She had a gold and silver woven toe ring.

“What are you doing Donna?” His voice held a sort of quiet, shocked awe. What was Donna doing in his hotel room?

“Sleeping?” She yawned and picked at sleep in her eye.

“What?”

Donna’s in my room? Donna is sleeping? Why is Donna asleep in my room? It looks like she’s been in there awhile. Had she snuck in here and waited for me? His mind flashed to their conversation in the hotel lobby earlier this evening. Had she…was she thinking… A zillion thoughts ran through Josh’s mind.

“Sleeping! I am, I was, sleeping.” Her voice rattled him from his attempt to figure out just what she was doing in his hotel room.

“Why?”

He had no idea why he was topping out at single word queries.

“Excuse me? Josh, it’s after 1 in the morning. I’m getting up in like,” she looked down at her wrist where her watch should have been. “Hey, why are you trying to break into my room?”

“Your room?”

Josh wondered if he’d just walked into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

“Gimme your key Josh.”

“What?”

“Give. Me. Your. Key.” She held her hand out. He diligently dropped it in her upturned palm and received a wide-open yawn in response.

What’s she doing? Where’s she going?

Donna walked out from the doorway, brushing his chest with her hand as she entered the hallway. She shuffled past him to the door across the hall. 

“Hey Donna, what are you doing? My key isn’t going to open your room! Come back here, we can talk about this. Hey, I didn’t know you’d be in my room! I mean, we joked about it, sure, but I didn’t –know- you’d really do it.” Josh’s verbal ramblings had no effect on Donna’s measured movements.

She stopped, turned, and gave him an odd look. Shaking her head with a snort she took the key and held it up for him to see. She put it in the lock and opened the door. She used her whole arm to point at him, and then swinging it in a wide arc, she pointed to the door she was holding open.

“Goodnight Josh.”

He looked at her and then back into the room from which she’d just emerged. Wasn’t that his room? He looked back at her. She shook her head as if to say, “No, you big lug, that’s not your room. This is your room.” 

He stared at her lithe form and let his eyes linger longer than he would have in the past. She had this sort of sexy, rumpled, bossy thing going on and he was captivated by it. With her arm raised a bit to point at him he caught a glimpse of her white smooth skin. She was rhythmically  scrunching her toes in the plush hallway carpet in between bouts of yawning and blinking her eyelids. Wait, how did she know which room was his? 

He wandered over to where she stood, her arm still outstretched with his keycard atop her open palm. He stood silent in front of her. Years from now, perhaps over a glass of wine, he’d tell her about what tonight meant to him, for both of them. Now, however, he seemed to be floating outside of his own body, watching his fingers make contact with Donna’s open, waiting palm.

He encircled her wrist with his fingers and felt their pulses meet. With his other hand he lightly lifted his keycard from her palm. He surprised her by not letting go. He watched her eyes widen as he pulled himself in very close to her body while simultaneously lowering her arm to her side. She tensed up a bit in reaction to his purposeful invasion of her personal space. Leaning in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, he let his voice drop to a whisper in her left ear. He could smell her shampoo and soap.

“Donna, how’d you know this was my room?” 

He raised a seductive eyebrow and smiled when her wide eyes met his. Neither one spoke when he began to move past her toward his room. Her eyes fluttered closed when he ran the palm of his hand up her forearm. He felt a tremor emanate from her when he slid his hand underneath the short hem of her t-shirt. Her breath hitched when he pressed his palm against the flat expanse of her tummy, drawing his hand across from right to left. Her chest flared out in response to the feel of his cool fingertips dancing across her very smooth skin. 

Her eyes opened soft and blue when his hand left her warm body. He left her standing in the hallway, half-asleep, staring wide-eyed at the space where he’d been standing only a moment before. “Goodnight Donnatella,” he whispered before he turned from her, went into his room and closed the door. 

It wasn’t until his body finally rebelled did he realize he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

“‘Miles to go before I sleep’ Donna? Maybe Houston will be far enough,” he thought aloud.

**FIN**


End file.
